Follow our American family of 4 (+ one dog) as we begin our new life in Lillehammer, Norway.

Monday, May 4, 2015

Russ

It is May in Norway, which means that for the next three weeks the streets are overtaken by graduating high school students dressed in matching red
overalls, sweatshirts and hats, handing out mini business cards to young children,
driving the streets in red vans and buses, and partying
and celebrating the fact that they have not yet started their final exams but
will in all likelihood graduate. Welcome to Russetid in Norway.

“Russ” is one of the few Norwegian cultural phenomena that
has perhaps been the most difficult for me to grasp and explain, and certainly
not embrace (although, seeing that I am not 19 years old, it’s not exactly a
cultural experience that I am allowed to participate in). It’s taken me 4 years
of witnessing it and trying to wrap my head around it to finally be inspired enough to write
about it.

Clever Russ. . . they changed the word "ferist" (cattle guard)
to "Fest" (party), and made the speed bumps
into breasts and nipples.

Norwegian high school takes students through the age of 19,
or through the 13th grade, by American standards (college is then 3
years, in comparison). The graduating students are known, during the final
weeks of school, as “Russ”. Beginning in early May, the Russ begin three weeks
of celebrating and partying around the country, culminating on the 17th
of May. (The legal age of drinking in Norway is 18. Let’s just put that out
there, in the background of all of this activity.) The 17th of May
is Norway’s national holiday, and is historically a day to celebrate the
children of Norway—the future of Norway, and after the sweet, low-key parade of
school children through the streets of towns throughout Norway, the streets are
taken over by the partying Russ, parading through town in red vans and buses,
in their final send-off before entering the world of adulthood.

The Russ are immediately recognizable by their clothing:
matching red overalls and sweatshirts, and special Russ caps. (There are also
black and blue Russ, which has something to do with the type of high school
they attended, like a vocational high school, but in Lillehammer most Russ are red). The overalls are personalized with their name and year emblazoned down a leg—our neighbor has
FRIDA* written in rhinestones, for example, and the Norwegian flag. The pants get signed by friends, much like the American yearbook, and are generally worn with the bib down. The rules are that once you start
wearing the Russ clothing, you don’t wear anything else, and you don’t wash
it--our babysitter showed up yesterday in her “russebukser” (Russ pants). The
Russ can earn “knots” for their hats by doing silly, stupid, irresponsible or
illegal activities, which must be witnessed by at least two other Russ.

I have witnessed Russ on all fours in the aisles of the
grocery stores, barking like dogs;

posing in the window of the local H&M
for 10 minutes, assuming various model poses every few minutes; setting up a
small band in the middle of a round-about; running naked across a local bridge
(some Russ confused which bridge was which, and ran—illegally--across the
interstate bridge instead of the old, lesser-used, one-lane bridge). Other
activities that have been reported involve large amounts of alcohol, having
unprotected sex, disruptive activities in the classroom, etc. . .

Martin would like you to know that "doing a backflipis like getting a blowjob, you lean your head back andenjoy it 100%". Thank you, Martin, forsharing that piece of wisdom with the children of Lillehammer.You are a fine representative of Norway'sTop Athletic High School. May your parents be proud.

Most of the traditions are decades old. For example, Russ always have on hand little business cards,
which is a little reminiscent of the US’s senior photos and yearbooks, but only
a little. . .These cards have the
Russ’s name, photo, school, phone number, and a little quote that ranges from
the cute and funny to the downright lewd. School children collect these cards
(please don’t ask me why), and run up to the groups of Russ on the street like
they are rock stars. Some children I knew had collected hundreds of these cards. I was horrified
and disgusted to read some of them. What I fail to understand is why it is
socially acceptable to hand out pornographic cards to young children—we’re
talking about 7, 8, 9 year old kids. Or why the Russ choose to give the kids
the cards with the sexual quotes on them when they are fully aware that it is
the young kids who collect them—why not make two sets of cards? Or if you only
have lewd cards, don’t give them to the kids?

Bettina, Julie, Stine-Marie and Katrine's bus from last year,
complete with corporate sponsor stickers, like the driving
school and the farm/garden supply store.

And then there are the “Russebuss” and the “Russetreff”
(buses and gatherings). The Russ get together at multi-day long festivals that are held throughout the country. These gatherings can range from 5,000-15,000
students at a time, and students can travel for a few days to get there (Norway
is a big country). They are a fairly typical concert-type festival—concerts
late into the night by well-known Norwegian bands**, stereo competitions between vans and buses, carnival
rides, prizes for the best bus, cheap food and alcohol, alcohol, alcohol. Lillehammer is host to
one of these Russetreff this coming weekend, and generally has about 10,000
students from around the country. They meet at the Birkebeiner ski stadium, the only location that can
“comfortably” park several thousand vehicles. The students travel and sleep in
vans and buses that they have bought specifically for these three weeks. The
students organize themselves in groups, earn money (or get it “sponsored” or
donated by parents, employers, or local businesses), buy the buses from last years’ Russ, spiff
them up, and hope to resell them again a year later. The buses are usually
painted red, but can also have fantastically painted designs and themes, with the names of the members of the bus written on the side. Mind you, these
buses start appearing around town in the beginning of May, and disappear at the
end of May. I never see a Russebuss driving around town in, say, the middle of
September.

As one might expect, the students from the wealthier
neighborhoods and cities in Norway tend to spend more on their Russebuss than
the students from the hicks. An article in Aftenposten last year profiled a
group of young men who had been planning their bus since they started high
school, and spent upwards of 300,000 NOK (approx. $40,000). They bought a tour-sized bus, and equipped it with top of the line
stereo equipment. They
saw it as an excellent investment and experience in financial planning.

What kind of blows my mind, is that all of this activity
happens during the school year, in the weeks leading up to their final exams.
The teachers dread this time of year, as the students are often distracted,
exhausted, hung over or sick, but have no control over when Russ takes place.
It is completely student-run, independent of the schools or communities.
Parents kind of shake their heads and say, “well, I did it, too, so. . . “
There are always reports of violence and rape at various Russetreff; a local
tae-kwon-do studio in Lillehammer offered a free self-defense course to young Russ women. Efforts are made to get the Russ vaccinated against various
communicable diseases, as students inevitably get sick from living in close
quarters with poor hygiene and run-down immune systems. Early May in Lillehammer is not guaranteed "spring" weather--it has been known to snow. All in all—fun times
for all!

Many will come to the defense of the Russ and say “they’re
not all bad” “a few are ruining the experience for everyone else” “not everyone
spends a gazillion kroner on their bus”, which I’m sure is absolutely true. Our neighbor girl said she is not part of a Russebuss, and said she will spend a few thousand kroner on the clothing and attending the Russetreff, but coming home at night instead of camping in a van. But
as an outsider, the whole experience is not one that I have come to consider a
charming Norwegian rite of passage. In all honesty, I hope that we are back in
the United States by the time Greta and Henrik are 19. Renting a limo and a
hotel room for prom night seems pretty innocent compared to this.

*Not her real name, as our neighbor is very sweet and in my
mind a very responsible Russ.
** ha ha hahahahahhah ha. . .

7 comments:

Great post, Emily. I know so little about russetid and now I know a bit more---thank you! I'm 100% with you on this strange cultural phenomenon. I don't understand it and, excuse me for sounding like a grumpy old codger, think it all seems ridiculous. I have heard people defend it by saying it's a time to celebrate the last chance to be young and without responsibilities. Well, okay, maybe... But I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say I see this same ridiculous behavior---pared down a tad---most Saturday nights in our town center. Seems a lot of people in Norway never grow out of celebrating by drinking to excess and acting like idiots. LOL

Also agree about the weird tradition of handing out lewd cards to children---??? And, seriously, after the penguin massacre in Ålesund this year, I hope more people start asking if russetid hasn't outlived its "charm."

Who am I, really?

The Other Players

Erik: my sweet husband, a native Minnesotan with Norwegian ancestry. Lived in Voss and Trondheim, Norway from 1994-1996, and vowed to return. Once a competitive cross-country ski racer, now with a PhD under his belt and behind his name, he found a job that brought us all to Norway. Mission Accomplished.

Greta: our cheery 7 year old daughter, born in New England, moved to Norway at the age of 2.5 years and quickly became bilingual. Never stops drawing or reading, unless I tell her to put it down and pick up her violin.

Henrik: our newest addition, born in Lillehammer in February 2013, but still 100% American blooded and loves Elmo, tractors and cranes.

Tika: our 10 year old, 80lb Weimaraner/Black Lab hunk of a dog, who bravely faced her fears of confined spaces and loud noises and flew across the Atlantic Ocean in a drug-induced haze, and lived to bark about it. Loves tennis balls, long runs in the woods, and these gross dried fish treats we've found here.